


Good Tidings We Bring

by dollylux



Series: Fic Advent Calendar 2014: Brothers, Soulmates, and Other Such Sexiness [25]
Category: Supernatural RPF
Genre: Awkward Conversations, Christmas Dinner, Domestic, Hella Awkward Conversations, Homophobia, M/M, Meet the Family
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-24
Updated: 2014-12-24
Packaged: 2018-03-03 07:06:53
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,606
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2842355
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dollylux/pseuds/dollylux
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jared has Christmas Eve dinner with the future in-laws.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Good Tidings We Bring

**Author's Note:**

> Day twenty-four of my fic advent calendar. Prompt: arguments.
> 
> Teehee.

“You look like you’re gonna pass out. Are you gonna pass out? Do you need to sit down?”

Jared is about to reply, to say no of course not, he’s not a wimp or a drama queen or a--

“Ah, yeah. Yeah, maybe I do.” Jared sinks down onto the last step leading up front porch and leans back against the railing. He closes his eyes and forces himself to focus on his breathing, on the slow and steady _in out in_ that will keep him conscious and help him survive this.

Jensen is there beside him, sweet and Jared’s absolute constant, his hand on Jared’s bicep, squeezing and rubbing up and down the length of his arm.

“Jay, it’s gonna be fine,” he says in a low voice very close to Jared ear, so low and soft that Jared has to strain to hear him, has to forget everything else and just focus on Jensen. It does wonders for his nerves. “You’ve already met them, remember?”

“Yeah, but it only lasted for five minutes.” He had been leaving Jensen’s apartment on his way to work one morning, and he’d opened the door to find two middle-aged people standing on the mat, staring at him with that carefully held-in surprise that only truly rich people can manage, like the manners and simultaneous disdain are just bred into them, come with the trust fund or whatever.

It was awful and brief and scarred Jared.

“They hate me,” he murmurs, tense all over again, eyes flying open so he can look over at Jensen, try to make him understand. “I was staying at your place. Their sweet baby boy. They know I fucked you. They _knew_.”

Jensen is smiling now, turned toward Jared and cupping his cheeks, thumbs moving in soft lines up and down the side of his mouth.

“That was almost three years ago,” Jensen reminds him, voice kiss-soft and drawing Jared right back in. “We are engaged now, and I’m yours whether they like it or not. Now, let’s go eat some dry turkey and make small talk with my mom until we can go home and I can show you what I’m wearing under my jeans.”

Jared’s eyebrows shoot up.

“What-What--”

“Dessert,” is all Jensen says, and Jared watches his long body unfold as Jensen stands up. Jared stares up at him, licking his lips as his eyes trail down the length of Jensen. He scrambles to stand up, too, and he smiles when Jensen laces their fingers together.

Okay, he can do this.

 

Luckily, there are a few people here for Christmas Eve dinner, Jensen’s sister and her new boyfriend and his brother with his wife and their kid, enough people for all the focus not to be on Jared. Thank fuck.

They get settled in around the table, all of them linking hands for a prayer that seems to take longer than the drive from Austin to Dallas, one during which Jensen tickles Jared’s palm and squeezes his hand and Jared tries so hard not to crack a smile.

They pile food onto their plates and dig in, and Jared’s first bite of the turkey proves what Jensen had said earlier absolutely true. He glances over at him the tiniest bit and finds Jensen already smiling as he pierces a green bean, like he knows exactly what Jared is thinking and would say. He knocks his shoulder against Jensen’s briefly, enjoying the small bit of contact here in the middle of half a dozen conversations and a roomful of strangers.

Jared glances over to his left where Alan, Jensen’s father, sits, finding him staring right at him, fork poised with mashed potatoes halfway to his mouth, and he’s _scowling_. Jared blinks.

“What was that?”

The color drains from Jared’s face.

“What was… what?” he ventures, his cheeks flooding with nervous heat.

“That nudge, like there was a joke or something,” Alan points his mashed potatoes between Jared and Jensen’s still-close bodies. “Somethin’ funny?”

Jensen puts down his fork with a clatter beside Jared, and Jared jumps a little at the sudden sound.

“Dad, it was an inside joke. We have inside jokes. Don’t you have any with mom?”

They all look to Donna who is staring at her husband with narrowed eyes, like he’s disobeying something specific and recently discussed. Jared’s starting to understand now, starting to sense the awkwardness here, all of it centered around Alan and flooding viciously toward Jared.

He ducks his head and moves his food around on his plate.

“So, Jared,” Donna starts with strained cheerfulness, “what is it you do again?”

Jared tenses, terrified and overthinking everything now, worrying that Alan is thinking the answer is _my sweet, innocent son, that’s what you’re doing, you dirty queer!_

He reaches for his glass of wine and takes a healthy gulp.

“I, uh,” he mumbles eloquently, “I teach high school English at Westwood in Austin.”

“Westwood is the best school in Austin, which is saying something,” Jensen adds, leaning over and pressing a warm kiss to Jared’s burning cheek. He savors it just as much as he is now absolutely sure that Alan is going to have the hired sniper probably hiding in the kitchen hit his mark now.

“That’s wonderful!” Donna seems genuinely enthused which heartens Jared a bit, and he’s about to open his mouth and reply when Alan cuts in.

“They let you teach kids?”

“I know, crazy, right?” Jared knows exactly what Alan’s trying to say, but he heads it off, forcing himself to laugh. “I can still burp the alphabet and regularly force Jensen to have _Star Wars_ marathons with me, complete with action-figure fights in between. I can’t believe they trust me!”

“I’ve tried to get Jensen into _Star Wars_ our whole lives!” Josh stares at Jared in astonishment though he’s smiling. “Totally not fair. Wait. Prequels included?”

Jensen is grinning now, almost shy. “Prequels included.”

Josh shakes his head, eyes huge. “Amazing. Gotta be true love, right?”

“Absolutely,” Jensen replies immediately, and when he reaches for Jared’s hand, Jared puts his fork down and takes it. They’re searching each other’s eyes now, everything else falling away, all the close-mindedness to Jared’s left and the unfamiliarity to his right, everything but Jensen. He tips his head up and presses a kiss between Jensen’s eyes.

“Love you,” he whispers.

Donna sighs, sweet and wistful and quiet, like she means it. 

“More wine, Jared?”

Jared pulls back from Jensen and gives Donna a smile before lifting his glass to drain it. 

“Yeah, thanks.” He lifts his glass for her to fill, looking around the kitchen as she does. “You have such a beautiful home, Mrs. Ackles. I hope we can have a home like this one day. Just years and years of memories, you know?”

“That sounds wonderful, Jared.” Donna resumes eating, cutting everything into perfect, manageable pieces before chewing each of them carefully. “Have you thought about buying a home?”

“We’re looking into it now, actually. We got a realtor last month. It’s a crazy process, but I think we’re getting there.”

“You’ve gotta have a kid, right? At least one?” Josh is grinning at them, a shit-eating grin, and Jared immediately looks away, doesn’t want to share a smile that might risk the Wrath of Alan.

“We’ll see,” Jensen shrugs, but the smile on his face is tiny, secret, probably giving away how badly Jared and Jensen want a child, want to adopt, how often they talk about it. 

Alan clears his throat loudly and takes a sip of water.

Jensen wipes his mouth on the napkin in his lap, replacing it and putting his fork down.

“Will you pass the mashed potatoes, Daddy?”

Jared reaches for the bowl of mashed potatoes, his fingers just barely touching it before he realizes that he’s not the only one reaching for it. Alan is holding onto the other side, and they’re both just sitting there, not moving any further.

Jared looks up, fear slicing real and hard through his entire body when he meets Alan’s eyes. Alan actually looks stunned, realization flooding him, the implications of it all hitting him over and over while Jared just looks on in horror.

The rest of the table falls quiet slowly, everyone seeming to catch on finally that there’s no movement at the head of the table, that Alan and Jared are just staring at each other, their mouths open, hands still on the fucking bowl of mashed potatoes.

Jensen is the last to realize what’s happened, what he’s said, and the sound of his fork clattering on his plate is the only sound in the dining room now.

“Shit,” he whispers, right before Alan gets a real grip on the bowl and mashed potatoes start flying.

 

The inside of the car is blessedly quiet when they pull the doors closed. Jensen starts it up, reaching up to shut off the radio. They sit beside each other in a strange sort of silence, staring straight ahead as they both replay the dinner they’d just had.

Jared breaks first, reaching down to pull a green bean free of his brand new tie. He opens the door and tosses it out into the grass, letting out a sigh as he settles back in, careful not to let his mashed potatoed hair get on the leather seat.

“I think that went pretty well,” he finally says, looking over at Jensen whose cream-colored sweater is stained with wine and sweet potatoes, who stirs at the sound of Jared’s voice, turning to meet his eyes and nodding thoughtfully.

“Yeah. Not too bad.”


End file.
